Around in Circles
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Bodie's going round in circles trying to find his missing partner - and it's driving him round the bend


Doyle felt guilty every time he visited June Cook. She felt – and he felt – that he was the cause of her husband's death. He was the one who had persuaded Brian to leave the police force and that CI5 was the life for him. It turned out instead to be the death of him. Doyle had been the one to break the news to the heavily pregnant June that her husband had fallen in the line of duty. She'd been the one who'd told Doyle to crawl back under the stone he'd come from and continue his lonely, selfish life. There were no words to counter her anger. She was right from start to finish. To abandon her felt like cowardice; to continue visiting her seemed like hurting her to ease his guilt. He was torn. Gradually she'd accepted her husband's death and accepted that a very small corner of her life had Ray Doyle in it, for better or for worse.

Over time she'd begun to see her friends again and there was now a new man in her life, Reg. He was certainly the strong type. Yes, he did drink a bit and, yes, he did get a bit aggressive when he'd had a few. Who didn't? That Ray Doyle didn't approve of him was a growing rift between them, unsettling the fragile bridge they'd built up between them. The last occasion Ray had called round he'd noticed a bruise on her face. She denied that Reg had hit her but Doyle pleaded that, for the sake of the children, if not her own, she should give Reg the shove. He could be there lurking in the shadows anytime she wanted him (CI5 emergencies notwithstanding of course). She got angry and it was Doyle she threw out that evening not Reg. Reg knew about Doyle's visits of course, but not their history. He'd been jealous and accused June of romance between them. In fact he was jealous of any of June's friends, both male and female.

Ray began visiting June more regularly as he'd got increasingly serious reservations about this Reg. On the one hand, the more he dissuaded her the more she dug her heels in and said all was well. On the other hand, if he'd said nothing and anything happened to her or the kids … Another guilt trip. This particular evening Doyle arrived while a heated argument was going on. Doyle told Reg in no uncertain terms to leave. He managed to push the man out into the front garden, but he wasn't going without a fight. It didn't help that June was physically trying to get between them. Doyle turned to her yelling for her to get back in the house and call the police. As he turned to push her, Reg punched him in the stomach. It wasn't until the knife was turned that Doyle realised that he'd had been stabbed. Stupid. He should have guessed and been more careful. He sank to his knees in a blaze of pain. From the window June heard him cry out and saw him fall. Reg wasn't one to run from battle however and his hackles were raised. Having eliminated one person to vent his anger on – Ray, his supposed love rival – he then turned to June who was trying to keep the front door closed from him. As he tried to break the door down Doyle rose quietly and slowly to his feet, picking up a brick as he did so. He crept as cautiously as he could to get within an arm's length and brought the brick down as hard as his failing strength would allow. Reg, fortunately, succumbed at the first blow. June screamed as she witnessed events through the window. Eventually she managed to come to her senses as Ray slid down the wall. She cautiously opened the door and Doyle crawled in, throwing the bloody knife ahead of him in the hall and out of harm's way.

"Have you called the cops?" he gasped.

She nodded and said they were on the way.

"Go upstairs with the kids and barricade yourself in in case lover wakes up. I can't take him again." Doyle was barely conscious.

She was reluctant to leave him. "You'll bleed to death, Ray. Let me see to you." She realised how much Ray had begun to matter to her.

"No," he said. "There's nothing you can do. I'll stay here on the floor. The cops won't be long."

In fact the sirens could be heard while he was trying to persuade her. So she stayed. Had Bodie or a medic been there, they would have applied pressure to the wound to stem the bleeding but she was clearly not a first-aider and her frightened mind was on what would happen if Reg managed to get in before the police turned up. She could hear him groaning and scratching at the door as they waited together. She and Ray heard the police car pull up and the heavy pounding of two pairs of regular-issue boots on the driveway. There was a scuffle, muffled voices, and then a knock at the door. June let the policeman in. She gave a brief account of what had happened as she knelt down beside him again. There was a policeman at his other side radioing for an ambulance.

"Check the kids," Ray whispered "and phone Bodie." She looked confused. She didn't think she'd heard the name before. "My partner in crime. I think he's at the Royal Oak. Just, just tell him I'll be ok," he panted. He wasn't sure whether to reveal his occupation in front of the policeman. She reluctantly left. She could phone HQ if Bodie wasn't at the pub. She would still have the number.

"It is Ray isn't it?" the policeman said.

Doyle looked at him more carefully. "Oh hello Raja. Long time, no see." Doyle grinned through his pain.

Raja Singh was pleased that Doyle had remembered him. It was a long time ago – in the Parker era. Raja was a sergeant now. He hadn't scaled the dizzy heights to CI5, but plodded along happily enough. He'd heard what had happened to June's husband after he'd joined CI5. No, he decided that the 'A Squad' wasn't for him. Doyle, though, seemed to thrive on it – well, until tonight that is; though this was a domestic incident. Couldn't blame CI5 for this one.

"The ambulance won't be long, Ray. How bad is it?"

"In agony to be honest. Stomach wound – stabbed."

Raja got practical and eased Doyle onto his back. Doyle drew his knees up, gasping with pain, as Raja applied pressure and several tea towels to his stomach. Raja's partner eventually returned and said that the ambulance wouldn't be long. June came back and said that Bodie had been informed.

Bodie was having a quiet night in the pub with his mates. He'd had the first day off in ages and was in a very relaxed mood after several pints and chasers. They'd been there a few hours when the landlady prised herself away from a very busy bar to weave her way across to their table. She squeezed Bodie's shoulder and nodded towards the door. "Ooh, what have you done, Bodie?" joked one of his friends as the pair left together.

In a relatively quiet area of the pub, the landlady informed him. "I've just had a phone call from a Mrs Cook. Know her?"

"I know a few Cooks."

"Well this one said that your mate, Ray, was round at her house and has got himself injured. Says he's all right but she sounded in a bit of a state. Vale Hospital, love."

Bodie was immediately on alert. If Ray lost a limb he'd still say he was ok. He thanked the landlady, made his excuses to his friends without going into any detail, and left. He radioed in to HQ to see if they'd heard anything. They hadn't, but made notes.

At Casualty he asked the receptionist for details. She looked at her log then asked if he were a relative. He knew that some staff were reluctant to hand out details to all and sundry and she seemed to be one of them. So Bodie declared that Ray was his brother. She looked very worried.

"I'll show you to a relatives' room and someone will be with you shortly."

Bodie felt his stomach knotting. "Why do I need a relatives' room? I want to see him now."

At this point a policeman, who'd been hovering on the sidelines, made himself known.

"You're Ray Boyle's brother?" asked the policeman. There seemed to be a lot of doubt in his voice.

"Yeah I am. What of it? For God sake tell me what's going on." Bodie was getting angry and frightened.

"This way, sir," the copper said, taking Bodie's arm – which he shook off.

"Am I under arrest?" Bodie said incredulously as they walked towards the lifts.

"No, sir. Unless there's something you want to get off your chest?" He looked expectantly at his angry charge. Bodie glared. The copper wished he had backup. "We're heading for the mortuary. I am sorry sir." They entered the lift.

Bodie felt his world implode.

"I'm sorry that there's no gentler way to tell you," the policeman added sadly, but said no more.

The morgue seemed to be miles away from the main entrance but they got there eventually.

"Charles, this is Raymond Boyle's brother." Copper and pathologist exchanged glances that Bodie couldn't read. Bodie was shaking violently and trying to get his breathing under control. "Can you formally identify him for us, sir?" the policeman continued.

Charles brought out a trolley and pulled back the sheet covering a corpse.

Bodie looked thunderstruck. "Is this a sick joke?!" he screamed looking at one and then the other.

The corpse revealed was in his early 20s – and black.

The two officials looked at each other. Bodie pushed past them and vomited in the sink. His legs felt like jelly. They waited patiently. Bodie prised himself from the sink and turned on them. They had covered up the body again.

"We didn't think he was yours," the policeman said defensively, "but you did insist that he was your brother."

Bodie's mind was in shreds but he tried to pull himself together. "Let me look at his ID." The officials looked uncertain. "Well, if he's pretending to be my brother I want to know why," Bodie yelled. He hadn't got himself under control yet and he needed to cling to the furniture to prevent himself sinking to the floor. The cop nodded to the pathologist, who produced a plastic bag of personal effects. Charles opened the bag on a table and scattered the contents. Bodie seized on the wallet but was too shaken to draw out the driving licence. The cop did it for him and showed it to him. Bodie snatched it from him.

"Raymond Boyle, you bastards. Boyle, not Doyle!" The address too was wrong, but of course the officials couldn't have known that. Bodie was beyond reason though. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry so held his head under the cold tap for a few minutes until the hysteria ebbed. The officials looked at each other uneasily and waited quietly. When Bode recovered, the policeman suggested that they go for a cup of tea. After drying off, Bodie allowed himself to be led to the hospital canteen.

The copper sat Bodie down in a quiet corner while he got the tea. Once they'd settled down together he introduced himself as PC Bodkin. Bodie had decided to come clean. He explained that he wasn't Ray's brother but a close friend and work colleague. He went on to explain how he came to be looking for Ray at Vale Hospital.

"Do you know Mrs Cook?"

Bodie shook his head. "And I don't know the extent of his injuries either."

"Do you know of anyone who'd make a sick joke like this?"

Bodie shook his head again.

Then Bodkin had a thought. "Have you checked Mr Doyle's home? If this is some kind of wind up, he could be innocently at home with his feet up."

Bodie hadn't thought of that and felt stupid and embarrassed.

Bodkin read his face and said, "Look, I'll check the other hospitals round here in case he's at one of those, and you check his home and anywhere else you think he may be and we'll meet back here in ten minutes or so. Ok?"

Bodie wasn't used to 'civilians' giving him orders; that was his job. But he put his pride to one side and agreed to Bodkin's suggestions. However, back at the table, Bodie hadn't been able to find Doyle at home or in his local. HQ hadn't been able to raise him on the radio either. It was all getting very worrying. Bodkin drew a blank at the other hospitals. He was about to come up with a further plan when his radio squawked. He moved away to answer it and came back to say that he'd been called away to a road smash. He wished Bodie well in his search and asked to be kept informed. He was intrigued.

Bodie nursed his empty teacup wondering what to do next. Did he pull the emergency bell and call Cowley? If the phone call was to be dismissed as a prank, there were only two scenarios which Bodie could conjure up, and neither of them made him feel better – Doyle was either dead or injured in a ditch somewhere; or he'd been kidnapped (far fetched though that seemed at the moment). He could of course be blind drunk somewhere; or got heavily involved with a buxom lovely. In either case, sleeping it off. Did he really want to call out the Cow if either was the case there? Bodie sighed heavily. "Doyle, Doyle," he muttered to himself in exasperation.

Bodie was a man of action and all this moping around didn't suit him. He made his decision and it would take him where it would – whether Doyle, at the end of the day, agreed with it or not. If he ended up being embarrassed because Bodie had panicked, well, so be it. He got in the car and radioed in. The duty officer said that Cowley was at a concert and not to be disturbed. However, he should be home soon. Bodie drove slowly to Cowley's address and waited outside till he turned up. While waiting, Bodie went over events to see if he'd missed anything. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Cowley's car. As he got out, Bodie was interested to see if he had a woman with him. He was disappointed to see that he was alone. Did anyone go to a concert on their own? Anyway, that wasn't the mystery to be solved. Cowley tensed as he heard a car door slam and rapid footsteps heading his way. He slid his hand into his inside pocket.

"Only me, sir. Bodie," he called across in case his boss wanted to gun him down as a mistake in identity.

"Well, Bodie, this is a surprise," Cowley said as they fell into step together. The Cow didn't seem to be overflowing with warmth. He probably just wanted to go to bed. However, his operative must think that something was important enough to waylay him at this hour.

"Doyle seems to have disappeared, sir," Bodie said as they made their way up the stairs.

Cowley said nothing until they got inside. He was offered a cup of tea.

"I'm rather awash with the stuff at the moment, sir" he replied. He hoped that Cowley would offer him a whisky instead, and was rewarded with one after his boss had taken off his coat and settled down to hear what his operative had to say. Bodie recited events as he understood them – the phone call, the trip to the morgue, the helpful copper. He explained that Doyle wasn't answering the phone or radio (he hoped he wasn't getting his partner into trouble) and wasn't at any of his usual haunts.

"And you don't know this Mrs Cook? A girlfriend?"

"I know a few Cooks; one of them married. I don't know how many Doyle knows, but he doesn't make a point of dating married women."

"Very noble," commented Cowley dryly. "Have you tried Doyle's current girlfriend?"

"He had a final bust up with Sheila – Sheila Farrell – a couple of months ago and, as far as I know, he hasn't a girl at the moment. That's not to say, of course, that he hasn't found one recently. We don't tell each other everything, sir." Bodie trailed off wondering if he was being too curt. His emotions were still very raw.

"Is there any reason why the landlady should lie to you or play a prank?"

"None at all. And even if it were a sick joke, that still doesn't explain why Doyle has disappeared into thin air."

Cowley nodded. Bodie waited while the Cow's razor sharp mind mulled over the problem. Even though 'eureka' hadn't been reached or guaranteed, Bodie felt a weight lifted from his shoulders simply by being here. Yes, it had been the right decision – wherever Doyle was eventually to be found.

"What time was the phone call?" Cowley asked eventually. Bodie replied that it had been about 21:30. Silently Cowley got up and Bodie watched him heading across the room to reach for the phone. He dialled HQ.

"Alpha One. I want you to trace a call made to the …" Cowley clicked his fingers at Bodie who promptly provided the name and address of his pub "… at around 21:30. Where the call come from – name and address."

The duty officer said he'd phone back, and Bodie wondered why he hadn't thought of that himself. He felt like a novice. While they waited they had another whiskey and Bodie, out of politeness and to break the oppressive silence, asked him whether he'd enjoyed his concert. He was dying to ask who he'd gone with, but felt that that would be pushing the boundary too far. Cowley was grateful for the diversion and was getting underway when the phone rang. Bodie jumped. His boss noticed but said nothing. Cowley thanked the operator and came back to sit opposite a very tense agent.

"The call was indeed from a Mrs Cook – June Cook." Cowley paused to see if the name meant anything. Bodie looked blank. Cowley read out the address. Bodie shook his head. "So, let's see what Mrs Cook has to say, shall we?"

"You don't have to come if you don't want to, sir." Bodie felt that his boss had held his hand enough. It was time for him to work out how to cross the road on his own now. But Cowley, like Bodkin, was intrigued. Unknown to them so was the duty officer at HQ.

As they neared the address, Cowley asked Bodie whether the area meant anything to him. Bodie looked around and replied that he and Doyle had certainly been to the area several times for various reasons and had done a stake out in Royston Street nearby. But the actual address of Mrs Cook was still a mystery to him – as was Ray's relationship with her. He added that he'd been reviewing his 'Cooks' and there was one at the back of his mind he couldn't quite put his finger on. It may though only be a Cookson, or a Coulson or something. Bodie was spared further mental turmoil as they pulled up in front of an ordinary semi. It was in darkness. As Cowley opened the front gate they heard running footsteps. The men reached inside their jackets. However, it was a policeman who was trotting down the street towards them. They waited for him. Rather breathlessly he asked them their business at this time of night. It was now the early hours. Cowley showed his ID and said very firmly that he was going to speak to Mrs Cook as a matter of urgency. The cop looked very unsure of his grounds. He'd heard of CI5 – who hadn't – but had never encountered them – and certainly not on his own in the early hours with no backup.

"There was an altercation here this evening, sir, and my orders are to save Mrs Cook from any further bother." He tried to look brave and authoritative but failed on both counts.

"What kind of altercation?" Bodie cut in.

"I don't have the details sir, but if you go to Grove Street Police Station, they'll have the information there." He hoped fervently that they'd just get in their car and go. To his surprise and immense relief they did.

"We weren't going to get anything further from him," Cowley explained as they headed for the police station. "And if we get nowhere at the station, we can always come back here again."

"I wish I knew what all this is about, sir, and who the blazes Mrs Cook is," moaned Bodie. He was still very anxious, with curiosity threading through his emotions. He wished, too, he could dredge up that other Cook who was skulking in the dark corners of his memory.

At the police station, Major Cowley continued to be the authority figure and flourished his ID while demanding to know what had gone on at Mrs Cook's. The desk sergeant didn't exactly jump to attention, but was very polite and attentive.

"Yes, sir," he said, referring to his duty log, "there was a disturbance at that address. We were called by a Mrs June Cook who said that her boyfriend was trying to break the door down and she was very frightened as she had children in the house. Our boys were there inside ten minutes."

Bodie was getting very worried. Was this 'boyfriend' Doyle? And was the reason he couldn't be raised because he was in a police cell?

"Go on," prompted Cowley brusquely. Bodie got the impression that the Cow's thoughts were running parallel with his own.

"The incident was attended by PC Watson and Sergeant Singh. It seems that the sergeant knows your Mr Doyle. A few of our lads here do. I don't think Raja's gone off duty just yet. I'll get him for you."

Before either of the men could stop him or ask for further details, such as how Doyle came under the heading of 'altercation', the desk sergeant had disappeared into a back room. He emerged a few minutes later with a man in civvies. Clearly Mr Singh was about to go home.

"We won't keep you," said Cowley, "but we are anxious to know where Mr Doyle is."

"Ray?"

Bodie sighed and Cowley discreetly tugged his sleeve in case he got sarcastic. They would get nowhere if this turned into a row.

"If you could start from the beginning – when you arrived at Mrs Cook's – and go from there," prompted Cowley.

Mr Singh said that his DS had left so they could use his room pro temp. Once settled, Raja began.

"We – myself and PC Watson – got a call about 21:30 that there was an incident at Mrs Cook's. She's one of ours – or at least her husband was – he 'defected' to your side, Mr Cowley, as you know. It was a sad business, wasn't it? But these things happen."

Bodie and Cowley exchanged glances. The penny dropped simultaneously. Of course! Cookie. He'd been gunned down while looking for an arms cache in the woods on a CI5 op following a tip off. It all came back now. Cowley got in first.

"Yes. June Cook is – or was – married to Brian Cook. He came to CI5 from the Fraud Squad and was tragically killed on duty shortly afterwards."

"That's the one, sir. We were all cut up about it …"

"Carry on with your story, Mr Singh," Cowley prompted. He didn't like to be reminded of his failures – failure to save the man and failure, later, to even remember him – or at least the name of his widow. It seemed though that Doyle still remembered.

"Well, when we arrived there was a man semi-conscious on the front step. We tried to help him but he got aggressive. He was clearly drunk. Watson got the cuffs on him and dragged him into the car and off to the station here. That's who we thought we were dealing with. I stayed behind to comfort Mrs Cook. However, when she let me in I saw Ray on the floor trying to hold his guts in."

Bodie went cold. His stomach resumed its gymnastics. He remained quiet.

"He recognised me, which was nice of him." The sergeant beamed with pride. "He said that he'd been stabbed. He asked for you to be informed, Mr Bodie. I applied first aid and radioed for an ambulance while Mrs Cook was making the phone call. It got there pretty quick and that was the last I saw of him. I'm not sure what you want, Mr Cowley?" Having told his story, the sergeant was confused about its purpose.

"We seem to have lost him on the way to the hospital," Cowley explained succinctly.

Singh looked shocked, then thought for a while. "Perhaps the ambulance has had an accident, or went on to another hospital. They do divert sometimes."

"He's not at any other hospital, Mr Singh. I checked," said Bodie.

Singh was already on his feet. "I'll check with Dave whether an ambulance has had a crash tonight," he said on his way out.

"If it has," Bodie said to his boss while they waited, "Ray would still be at a hospital wouldn't he?"

"Indeed," mused Cowley.

Singh came back empty handed. They all looked blankly at each other searching for inspiration. Cowley, a leader of men, was the one who thought first.

"I think we should go back to the beginning." Singh and Bodie looked vacantly at him.

"Vale Hospital told you that they had a Mr Boyle but not a Mr Doyle?" Bodie nodded. "Well, let's ask them to check again in case he's fallen through the cracks. From what Mr Singh has told us, his injuries seem too severe for him to have wandered off on his own."

Singh agreed saying that Ray was barely conscious and bleeding heavily when he was stretchered into the ambulance. Bodie silently thought that it was a great pity that Singh hadn't ridden in the wagon with his friend. Cowley thanked him for his help and they rose to go. However, the sergeant wasn't to be put off so easily. He insisted that he come, too. Since he was a former colleague of Doyle's, and had tried to save his life, Cowley felt obliged to indulge him.

On the way to the hospital, the car radio crackled. Cowley was driving, so Bodie answered it. "3.7 – the hospital phoned to say that Ray is asking for you." The duty officer sounded delighted and relieved. 3.7's confusion quickly turned to anger.

"Which bloody hospital?" Bodie yelled. Cowley looked at him reproachfully. Singh, in the back, remained quiet. He understood Bodie's temper. Fear was like that.

"Vale," came the reply.

"Acknowledged," he snarled, "we're already on our way there." He threw the radio back. What the hell were they playing at? Bodie continued seething all the way to the hospital.

Back at Reception where he'd started from hours ago Bodie saw a different receptionist so didn't feel that he could take his temper out on an innocent party, much as he'd like to. He asked for Raymond Doyle. Spelt the surname phonetically, and gave Ray's date of birth and blood group. The receptionist felt he was being sarcastic, didn't know why, but saw the anger and tension in him, so decided to be cool and calm. She was used to distressed relatives and friends. She directed the party to men's surgical ward and they could get details there. _And good luck to them_, she thought as she saw the men retreat.

"Better than the morgue," Bodie murmured to himself when they were in the lift going up several floors, rather than down to the basement.

At the ward's nursing station they made their enquiries. The night nurse said that Doyle had been brought in with a single stab wound to the stomach. The surgery had gone well. He'd lost a lot of blood and was in shock, but they were pleased with his progress so far. He'd briefly regained consciousness a little while ago and was asking for Bodie. She looked at the three men not knowing which of them was Bodie – or indeed if it was the name of his pet dog. Bodie identified himself and they all trooped into the side ward. Doyle was rigged to a drip, but looked very peaceful.

"The sleep of the innocent," commented Cowley to no-one in particular.

Doyle sensed someone in the room. He opened his eyes slowly and was confused that three figures appeared vaguely before him. The shadows seemed to merge then separate again. He closed his eye. He decided that he either he had a serious concussion, or he was going quietly mad. Best to lie very still until the world went back to being round. He heard some murmured conversation. He had no curiosity about it and just wanted the voices to go away. He was very tired. He was relieved to hear the quiet clatter of footsteps and a door open and close. Then blessed silence again. He believed himself to be alone – until he heard a chair scrape and felt someone placing a hand over his.

"Ray?" the voice said gently. The speaker squeezed his hand.

He recognised the voice as Bodie's and felt relief wash over him but didn't know why. He risked opening his eyes again and hoped to see only one figure this time, or he'd really be going mad. Fortunately there was only one figure – and a very serious looking figure it was too.

"Don't look so scared, Bodie. I'm ok." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"You do get us worried sometimes Raymond," Bodie admonished gently. He was trying to keep his anger under control. It wasn't Doyle's fault that the hospital was incompetent.

"June. You don't know her, but …" Doyle was getting anxious and frustrated at not having the strength to say what needed to be said.

"It's alright, Ray. We know about June – now. She and the kids are being protected. You can put your shining armour away." Bodie saw the relief in Doyle's face.

"Thank you," he whispered and he allowed himself to sleep, still clutching Bodie's hand. June was safe and Bodie was looking over him. The world had gone back to being round.

7


End file.
